


Morning Glow

by SiwgrGalon



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, Families (mentioned), Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex, Introspection, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, does this have a plot?, probably soppy af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6530602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiwgrGalon/pseuds/SiwgrGalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After three weeks abroad, Connor is back - and as they lie in bed, the morning after his return, Kevin gets thinking about their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Glow

**Author's Note:**

> So, my first fic in this fandom. Have some mercy if it's completely out of character, please... it was meant to be a lot shorte and it's not beta-ed. 
> 
> (Also, I'm sorry for rambling.)

Kevin doesn’t know whether it’s his biological clock waking him or the rays of sun falling in through the blinds, tickling his nose in that weirdly wonderful way no one can explain, but everyone knows. 

What he does know, however, is that, for the first time in what feels far too long, the bed doesn’t feel too big, too cold or too empty, and it’s all thanks to the warm, comforting weight resting against his side. 

At first he doesn’t dare glance down to the head resting against his collarbone, for fear of it being all in his imagination, but when Kevin does – and when he catches sight of a familiar, unruly bedhead of auburn hair – the resulting smile threatens to split his face in half. 

Connor is back. This time for real, not just in a dream. His lithe body is resting against Kevin’s side, an arm over his boyfriend’s stomach and, Kevin notices amusedly, the hand neatly tucked under his body, two fingers hooked into the waistband of his underpants. 

Soft puffs of air tickle Kevin’s skin where Connor’s head is hidden, pillowed on his collarbone, still slumbering.

It’s been a long three weeks. Weeks Connor spent on the other side of the world, studying Shakespeare as part of a prestigious summer course few Musical Theatre students get to do because their degree is still not seen as a 'full' acting degree by _some_ people. Time Kevin spent visiting his parents, working and writing the essay he nearly forgot about. 

And the former District Leader deserves it, Kevin thinks, deserves all the experience and the praise and the success he has in college right now, because life has been unfair enough on him already. 

There’s no denying the fact he’s missed Connor, though; there’s no denying they both have missed each other, horribly so, and the tears the pair shed the night before Connor’s flight out speak more than words could ever do. 

Three weeks, feeling more like months, are the longest they’ve been apart since Kevin returned from Uganda and they moved in together. It’s been the longest either of them has been alone, too, which only added to the stress and pressure. 

Skype calls, filled with confessions of love, of homesickness and the feeling of not being enough (Connor) or being too overwhelmed with work and loneliness to get stuff done (Kevin), got them by, but in the end they’re a poor substitute for the real deal. 

Judging by his face, Connor hadn’t expected Kevin to wait for him at JFK late last night. 

But his look of surprise had changed to one of delight in an instant, and then they had been standing in the arrivals hall, amid hundreds and thousands of travellers, and a few of Connor’s fellow students, and kissed. 

One of Kevin’s hands had been resting on Connors face, the other on the small of his back, holding him as close as possible while their lips did the talking the boys weren't comfortable with in front of so many strangers. 

When people in films talk about fireworks going off, Kevin thinks this is probably where they get it from. Their Hollywood moment, soppy and romantic and warm and wonderful, in the middle of a busy airport with people watching, and they’d enjoyed every single second. 

The memory makes Kevin smile even wider and he, carefully so as not to wake his sleeping partner, slings his arm around Connor’s shoulders, drawing him impossibly closer. 

That’s when the older boy shifts, mumbling something unintelligible, and suddenly there’s even more contact between their bodies. 

Definitely not awake, Kevin thinks, and Connor’s breathing remains as soft and regular as mere minutes ago. Wakefulness is a long way away, it seems, even with New York City life in full swing outside their window. 

A small sigh escapes as the younger Mormon (or should that be ex-Mormon? Kevin doesn’t know, sometimes. After 19 years you can’t just chuck your faith away like an old sock, no matter how much you want to) lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

_This is real, Kevin. Connor is here, now, and he’s not going to go anywhere again soon, at least not for this long._

He looks down again. When Connor shifted, he must’ve turned his face, because Kevin can see freckles, can see light eyebrows and his boyfriend’s long lashes – impossibly golden in the morning light – resting on pale cheeks. 

It’s unfair, Kevin thinks, how relaxed Connor is in his sleep, how guilt-free and peaceful he looks. How impossibly young, even with a slight stubble gracing his face; he appears younger now than he ever did in Uganda, and the weight of worry has lifted from his shoulders. 

Of course he’s gotten better, once he stopped turning it off, which may explain his far calmer sleep. 

But it’s still Connor, Kevin thinks. Sweet, caring Connor, forgiving and accepting and so, so open-hearted – not to mention the most affectionate person Kevin knows, by far. 

And yes, he may be flamboyant at times, and his ‘sweetie’s and ‘darling’s might take some time getting used to, but Kevin knows the real Connor by now, with all his faults and insecurities and that weird little shyness coming out every so often.

He also most definitely, absolutely knew what he signed up for when he first kissed his then-District Leader, by the small lake where they held their baptisms, and Heavenly Father knows Kevin wouldn’t have him any other way.

Turning his head, Kevin burrows his nose in his boyfriend’s hair, catching a sniff of something so uniquely Connor it makes the former missionary’s heart swell with affection and his eyes well up a bit. 

Connor smells warm and clean, like sandalwood and orange and tea tree and mint, and his own, personal smell just adds a layer driving Kevin crazy and making him love the man in his arms even more. 

It also brings back memories of what happened last night, after they said their goodbyes and jumped in an Uber bringing them back to their apartment; the reason why they’re only wearing underwear and nothing else. 

For all the suffering the couple put themselves through, the reunion sex had been – if Kevin says so himself – something incredible. There’s he’ll ever grow tired of being with Connor. 

Intimacy is one thing, and it’s the most wonderful, satisfying thing they both could imagine, but there are so many different aspects to what they do between the sheets. 

All they share is that each and every one of them has the potential to drive Kevin – and Connor, too – insane. 

There are the small noises Connor makes when Kevin kisses the soft spot behind his ear. The way he arches his body against Kevin’s. The way their hips slot together, like pieces of a puzzle made for each other. That small trail of red hair, leading down from Connor’s bellybutton. The way he says Kevin’s name (and the way Kevin says Connor’s name), the pitch of his voice darker than usual but still with its soothing, smooth and oh-so-sexy timbre. 

Like dripping honey or, in a mental image whose origin is completely unknown to Kevin, salted caramel: sweet, but with the promise of something more, something deeper and richer that only becomes apparent once you taste it.

And he most definitely won’t tire of the sight of Connor in the throes of passion; writhing below him or, what seems to be their current favorite, sitting in Kevin’s lap, giving both partners the opportunity to _touchtastediscover_ each other over and over again while their bodies follow their own rhythm. 

It’s a sight to behold, Kevin thinks, and his free hand has subconsciously started to dance along Connor’s body. Starting at his thighs, to the small of his back, Kevin’s fingers are drawing soft patterns over the planes of ivory skin. Words, numbers, declarations of love – Kevin’s aim is to reassure, to reacquaint, not arouse. It’s comfort, not passion, he’s aiming for. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed – forgot to check his watch when he awoke – but the buzzing of his phone pops Kevin’s comfortable bubble.

Seconds later, Connor’s phone buzzes, too, a sure sign of either an emergency or a group text, most likely from one of their mothers. 

Stopping his gentle caresses, at least for the moment, Kevin stretches slightly to reach for his phone and check, just in case it actually is an emergency. 

It’s not. 

True to his suspicion, it’s Mrs Price sending a text to their small family group. 

‘Hope everything went without delays last night. How are you boys spending your first day back together?’

It’s 10:30 am, the sun is high in the sky and for a short moment Kevin Price, from the comfort of the bed he shares with his partner – his partner who is still sleeping peacefully in his arms – considers lying to his mother (and, subsequently, a whole lot of other family members), considers telling her they’re having a lazy breakfast and will head down to Central Park later, to lounge in the sun and just talk. 

Instead, he does something they both rarely do, despite being obsessed with selfies. 

Setting his phone to silent, and pulling up the covers so they cover a bit more (Kevin’s mother does not need to see either of their nipples, than you very much), Kevin switches on his front camera, nestles his face into Connor’s hair and snaps a picture, hitting ‘send’ before he can think about it. 

It takes less than two minutes and their phones buzz again, announcing a reply. 

‘OMGosh, you guys look adorable!! Looks like you’re making the most of your reunion ;-)’ 

Moments like these show Kevin where Connor gets his personality from: Mrs McKinley, for all her initial problems with her son's homosexuality and the fact that he's in a relationship, is strikingly similar to her son, from the red hair to some of the district leader’s iconic mannerism, his quick wit and his love for dancing. 

What no-one expected, least of all her own son (and isn’t that sad?), was that while she loves the LDS Church, she also loves her child, her only son among six daughters.

She loves him so much, they learned, she’d divorce her husband to be closer to her child. So that’s what she did. 

And Kevin is proud, he really is, although he thinks Mrs McKinley should’ve done more to make her son understand it wasn’t his fault, that the marriage was probably close to breaking anyways, and his coming out didn’t destroy the family. As it is, that’s what Connor thinks and on bad days it’s one of the ghosts haunting him.

They had a few tearful nights over it, because for all his anger directed at his father – for not accepting him, for trying to ‘cure’ him through conversion therapy – Connor is still Connor, and he loves his father so dearly it breaks Kevin’s heart. 

On the subject of Connor… Reading the message again (is that sexual innuendo at the end? Oh please no...), Kevin decides to take a propert look at the picture since it’s probably going to end up on Facebook anyways and he’d like to know what to prepare for. 

His West Coast tan, as Arnold described it, is very much present, as always; a subtle golden hue, amplified by the sun shining on his body. In contrast, Connor looks even paler than he already is, the freckles on his shoulders manifesting in the form of an undertone reminiscent of rust hidden under coats of white paint. 

They look so utterly content, Kevin thinks, so happy, it makes him want to move even less. And heck yes, they're gorgeous, too. 

Another buzz. Mrs Price, sending a selfie of her, Mr Price, Jack and his fiancé Alison, all smiles at what looks like their local farmers market, with the simple message ‘Handsome!’ and a few too many emojis. 

There’s movement at his side, then, Connor’s breathing switching from deep to shallower, and he makes the little noise at the back of his throat indicating he’s waking up. 

‘What are you doing? Are you sending unseemly pictures of me to our friends again?’ he mumbles, slowly starting to arch his back and stretch his legs. 

Blue eyes open, fixing themselves, a bit blearily, onto Kevin, and the redhead slowly raises himself onto his elbows so he’s looking into his younger boyfriend’s face. 

‘Nah, our families. And I’m sure they’ve seen worse from you.’ 

That earns him a playful shove from Connor’s free hand, before he pulls back the waistband of Kevin’s shorts and lets go so they snap against his boyfriend’s hips. 

Suddenly, all Kevin can do is laugh. As it lights up his face, putting that twinkle in his eyes, Connor thinks he may just be the luckiest person on Earth and he really doesn’t know how he deserves this, but he's determined to hold onto it for as long as possible. 

‘I know I said it last night, but welcome back,’ Kevin murmurs, his hand sliding from the small of Connor’s back to the nape of his neck. 

‘You have no idea how lonely New York is without you.’ 

Goosebumps rise on Connor’s arms and shoulders, the declaration making him shiver jut a little, but he smiles and leans into the touch before answering. 

‘Probably as lonely as the English countryside, when all it does is rain and you’re studying soliloquys and love scenes while the one person you’d love to do all of it with is on the other side of the ocean!’ 

Kevin’s lips are warm and dry and soft. The kiss is everything last night was – slow and sensual and so, so lovely – and then some, staying languid even as they deepen it and their tongues start playing a familiar game. 

Hands wander, explore, reacquaint. Somehow Kevin manages to flip them, so Connor ends up laying on his back, his hands buried in Kevin’s hair as they kiss each other to within an inch of their life. 

Breaking apart is just as lazy and affair, interrupted by small peck after small peck. 

‘Breakfast?’ Kevin asks, the index finger of his left hand stroking up and down the small trail of hair on Connor’s belly (but always stopping an inch above the waistband of his underwear – he knows how to rile him up). 

‘Hmm… can we just stay in bed, for now? I missed you, and I think all I want to do is cuddle up to you, watch lots of stupid TV, nap and maybe, if we’re both up for it, a few more rounds of sex,’ is the answer, and it’s one Kevin can definitely work with. 

So that’s what they do, with the addition of ordering enough food to feed each of them twice. 

And while New York bustles past outside, the inside of their four walls is peace and quiet and love, at the heart of which two former Mormon missionaries enjoy their life as a young couple, in the comfort of a blanket fort. 

The sex is wonderful, as is the cuddling and the whole atmosphere; they shower together, in a surprisingly innocent way, and they feed each other snacks before bursting into giggles. 

At night, as they’re dressed in their pajamas and once again cuddling close, Connor places his hand on Kevin’s heart. 

‘Let’s be honest, were you watching me sleep this morning?’ he asks, playfulness evident in his voice and the way he raises one of his eyebrows. 

Blood rushes to Kevin’s cheeks – ridiculous, they’ve been together for four years – but as his voice is firm as he denies any notion of being that creepy person who stares at their partner while they sleep. 

‘I was just thinking.’

Said partner turns pensive, then, pressing a quick kiss to Kevin’s lips and turning around to be the little spoon (Connor loves the way Kevin holds him, as if he’s the most precious thing in his world – little does he know he is), before asking. 

‘Tell me what you were thinking about?’

Kevin snakes a hand under his boyfriend’s shirt, resting it on the soft skin of his stomach, and he counts three breaths before answering. 

‘I was thinking about you. How much I adore you, how far the two of us have come and how indescribably lucky I am to have you, Connor McKinley, in my life,’ Kevin murmurs into his partner’s hairline. 

‘You’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me, and I was thinking about how proud I am to see you change so much, and to do the things you love with such joy.

‘But most importantly, and I don’t care how soppy or cheesy this sounds, I was thinking about how much I love you.’ 

A small kiss to Connor’s neck is the finishing touch, while Kevin’s arms draw him in so close they can’t fully say where one of them ends and the other begins, the former District Leader can’t stop smiling. 

‘I love you too, you big old softie,’ he murmurs, placing one of his own hands on Kevin’s as they both succumb to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, this got... out of hand. I don't know what came over me, but I've been carrying this idea around for a bit and wanted to explore it - little did I know it would end up being 2.7k words instead of just the planned 700 - 1000. 
> 
> Anyways, I don't want to torture you with even more of my ramblings - so let me know what you think, I'm all up for constructive criticism!


End file.
